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Jizzax - Samarkand

Hoʻopuka ʻia: 22.12.2019

On Monday, December 16, 2019, it is time to leave Tashkent temporarily again. We want to use the time until we hopefully receive our Turkmen visas to visit some cities. After breakfast at the Ibsa Hostel, I take our obligatory morning walk with Rango, then we pack our stuff and hit the road. After a few hundred meters, Schrotti breaks down again. A look into the engine compartment indicates problems with the heat exchanger. The part for heating the gas is leaking. We switch to gasoline mode and struggle through the dense city traffic for a while. Shortly after leaving the hustle and bustle, we stop at a gas workshop. When I want to show the problem to the master, the heat exchanger does its job as it should. The thing is now warm and tight again. So we switch back to gas mode and continue driving. On the way, we refuel propane and reach the border crossing at Sirdaryo around four o'clock. Unfortunately, the remaining days of legal stay in Uzbekistan are not enough for us to take a detour along the old Silk Road oases to Khiva or even to the Aral Sea. Therefore, we plan to take a detour to Kazakhstan and get a fresh stamp when reentering Uzbekistan. The departure itself is time-consuming. I stand for a while at the passport control with Rango, until someone finally steps in to expedite things for us. I have to pay about 6 € for something veterinary. In the end, I get a stamp in Rango's passport (on the page for the rabies vaccinations!?) and an unreadable receipt. No one has checked the big guy. Then my four-legged companion can get back into our Russian car, which is waiting with Marcus in front of a hall. After I described my previous journey through Uzbekistan (I can only show registration certificates from our first overnight stays in the Fergana Valley), and was rather sloppily searched in a small room, I also get my exit stamp and join Marcus. He is still waiting in front of the hall. Finally, we are allowed to enter, we have to empty Schrotti's trunk and pass our backpacks through a scanner. Then Rango has to get out of the car and a sniffer dog is called in. After some small talk with the officials, we can pack up our stuff again, Marcus gets his exit stamp, and we can head towards the Kazakhs. The entry there goes quite smoothly, but it is already past six and getting dark when I wait for Marcus and Schrotti in the cold in Kazakhstan. Then we continue southwest in order to re-enter Uzbekistan on the same day. When we arrive at the next border, there is no sign of re-entering soon. We are greeted by a locked gate. After a while, we use the stop to dress warmer, a border guard opens the metal door. We learn the opening hours for the border crossing and that it can only be crossed by Kazakhs and Uzbeks. So we have to go back to Atakent. When we arrive there, it turns out on the Kazakh side that we should have let ourselves stay in the country for 5 hours before we can present ourselves again. It is about eight o'clock, so we have only been away for 2 hours. At first, it looks like we have to stay, but then the border guard closes his eyes and lets us pass. On the Uzbek side, we again wait an eternity in front of the vehicle clearance hall. Apparently, they do not quite understand why we are here again. Finally, we are allowed to go to passport control without any problems. Here we have to pay a small fee first, and a slightly larger one shortly after. On the way through the border facility, we drove through a deep puddle of dirty water, which is sold to us as vehicle disinfection for about 60 cents. Then we already have our new entry stamps in our passports and want to continue driving, when a border guard realizes that we have to go back to the cashier. Our car has tinted windows, which apparently costs 15 € when entering Uzbekistan. The attempt to simply peel off the film only partially succeeds, I have the film in my hand, but the tint is still on the window. So we can only re-enter Uzbekistan after paying. Annoying.

It is already past midnight when we are on our way to Samarkand again. At the first opportunity, we buy some bread and treat ourselves to some egg and radish salads that we still had in stock. Then Marcus drives a few more kilometers, and I doze off in the passenger seat. It is around half-past three on Tuesday morning when we reach Jizzax. We find a quiet side street and make ourselves as comfortable as possible in our Russian car for a few hours. Around ten o'clock, we get out of the car and after cleaning up a bit, we take a walk near the southern bazaar. In a backyard, there is tea, coffee, and fried dough balls (pirozhki with potato and meat filling) for breakfast. Then we wobble back to Schrotti and drive to the northern center of the city. Here too, we stroll around a bit before we set off for Samarkand. We arrive around half past three, park Schrotti and take a first stroll. After an overpriced coffee, we stroll through the city and at the same time search for accommodation. In the evening, we check in at the Boriga Baraka, a hostel located directly in the old town. After a small dinner, it's time for bed.

For Wednesday, December 18, 2019, rainy weather was forecasted until noon. When we get up around ten o'clock, the hostel courtyard is experiencing some pretty bad weather. I take a short walk with Rango and then join Marcus in the kitchen, where we prepare breakfast on a very small flame. Then I write a travel report, upload appropriate pictures, and take a nap. In the afternoon, we have a coffee break before I set off to the city with Rango. By now, the rain has largely stopped, so it is quite pleasant outside. The city impresses with its many parks and, of course, the largely restored, very attractive historical buildings. Otherwise, Samarkand makes a modern impression. What is disturbing is the abundance of Christmas decorations in the city. Colorful lights, plastic Christmas trees, and stalls with plastic Christmas spittel, presumably made in China, do not fit the city at all. The small-scale old town also does not exude any special charm, only the proximity to central sights makes the houses interesting. Over the evening, more and more fog moves into the city, creating a milky veil over the parks, streets, and buildings. The resulting atmosphere also has its charm. We are back at the hostel around eight o'clock. I park the big guy in Schrotti, cook a pea soup, and while enjoying a small workout and a warm shower. After dinner, we head to bed around midnight.

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